


koi no yokan

by harlequin87



Category: Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M, cameos by Slade and Nowell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlequin87/pseuds/harlequin87
Summary: koi no yokan (n.) - a gentle, unspoken feeling that you are about to fall in love





	koi no yokan

George was tired. He was usually tired - one of the drawbacks of being a professional athlete - but this was a new level of exhaustion. Eddie had really emphasised the cardio that morning, and Jonny was keen to extend the afternoon kicking session. George wasn't going to pass up the chance to train with _Jonny Wilkinson_ , but this was a new level of fatigue. His body ached and his eyelids were heavy after reviewing so much footage of the Springbok defence.

He looked over at Owen, and that lightened the load a little. They were alone in one of the team rooms at Pennyhill Park, except for Slade and Nowell messing around in a corner. Owen was sprawled across a chair, ankles resting on George's, which were propped up on the table between them. The pressure was a constant reminder: _I'm here. I've got you._ Hoodie pulled up over his head, Owen's breathing was even and his face was slack, mouth hanging slightly open. George smiled. It was hard to articulate his emotions at moments like this - the utter trust Owen placed in him, and the comforting atmosphere his very presence provided. It had been that way when they were teenagers, and George was sure it would stay that way for years to come.

Despite the increased distance, they had grown closer since those early days. A hundred miles down the motorway wasn't much, and George looked foward to their fortnightly trips perhaps more than he should. In his weaker moments, he imagined a shared house, each making an hour-long commute out to their respective training grounds every day and returning home to the dogs at night. Owen had never expressed any interest in that sort of thing, but in fairness, George had never asked.

A yell from Henry jolted Owen awake, and his eyes flickered around hesitantly before settling on George. The older man's face creased into a smile, corners of his eyes crinkling, and George found himself unconsciously mirroring him. "How's your shoulder?" Owen asked softly.  
George shrugged. "Hurts, but it should be fine by tomorrow."  
Owen sat forward and laid a hand on George's knee. "Have you told the physios? I couldn't cope if-" He bit his lip. "We need you out on the pitch, mate."  
George ducked his head. "I appreciate it, but you know how it is. Anything above 80% is fine, as far as the coaches are concerned."  
"Yes, but . . . I suppose so. I just don't want another Argentina." They shared a wistful smile, remembering Owen reluctantly flying to the other side of the world to play for England while George sat at home, nursing his shoulder.  
"Me neither." There was silence.

"Hey, Faz! Fordy!" Jack shouted from across the room. Owen rolled his eyes and twisted round to face him. "Table football? Sladey's being a knob." The fly-halves exchanged a shrug and wandered over. "You two can be Wigan, and we'll be Exeter," Jack instructed, shoving Henry into position.  
"Hang on, what? You two play together all the time - that's not fair!" Owen protested.  
Henry scoffed. "Yes, it is. We aren't in sync like you guys."  
George hid a pleased grin. "Come on, Faz, let's do it."

As they jostled around the table, George studied Owen's face carefully. Objectively, it was nothing special, but subjectively? It was a lot. Seeing his best friend throw back his head in laughter, whole body shaking with it, made George's stomach swoop. The feeling of complete contentment spread, so even when the rest of the squad crashed into the room, he could look Owen and think, _yes. He's the one._ Maybe they wouldn't always have to travel so far to see each other, and maybe one day they could get past this thing that was holding them back. Maybe. One day. Call it fate, call it inevitable - George was happy to wait. He could never get tired of this feeling.


End file.
